


Retreat

by amaanogawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Host Clubs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaanogawa/pseuds/amaanogawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo is not so naïve to believe that he truly felt a connection with someone who makes a living making people feel as if they are someone special, instead of just one customer among hundreds of others.</p><p>(Except maybe he is.)</p><p>Based on a prompt received by aeshiryzen on tumblr.</p><p>
  <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/5447558">Russian translation</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

The first time Kuroo Tetsurou meets Sawamura Daichi, he curses under his breath because he realizes that he’s actually going to have to thank Bokuto for dragging him out to a host club of all places against his will. Had he not, Kuroo wouldn’t have had the privilege of laying eyes on the fiercely attractive stranger standing before him. And god, is he thankful to have this opportunity.  
  
“Hi, my name’s Sawamura Daichi. Thank you for joining us tonight, may I keep you company?” His voice is low and smooth, a practiced smile upon his lips. Kuroo briefly wonders what his real smile looks like. Not this carefully adorned host-smile, perfect around the edges, but the genuine smile of Sawamura Daichi.  
  
“Kuroo Tetsurou. And please, join me.” Kuroo gestures to the spot on the seat beside him with a lazy smile, and Sawamura slides in with grace, placing a glass of amber liquid in front of Kuroo. He raises his own glass and Kuroo reciprocates the gesture, their glasses touching with a light _clink_.  
  
“So, do you live in Tokyo? Or on a trip?” Sawamura asks, sipping on his drink. His eyes match the colour of the honey-amber beverage in his glass, warm brown studying Kuroo with curiosity.  
  
“Born and raised.” Kuroo responds with a shrug. “What about you, Sawamura-kun?”  
  
“Miyagi, actually. Moved here after high school.” Kuroo is slightly surprised that the response to his question is answered with sincerity. He had expected a certain level of falsities considering he was chatting up a host, but Sawamura maintained an aura of genuine sincerity. Kuroo smiles, leaning forward mere centimeters. Sawamura does not retreat.  
  
“Miyagi, huh… let me guess, when you first came to Tokyo, you mistook a plain ol’ steel tower for the Tokyo Tower.”  
  
Sawamura reacts with surprise, mouth agape, ears dusted with a light shade of pink. “Wha- How did you-?” Kuroo laughs as Sawamura crosses his arms, regaining his composure and grumbles. “All steel towers look like the Tokyo Tower to us country folk, alright?”  
  
The rest of the evening is just as enjoyable and comfortable as the beginning, and Kuroo discovers just how much he has in common with this beautiful stranger. They were the same age, both played volleyball in high school, both captains of their team. In fact, their teams had been fated rivals at some point before their generation, the matches respectfully dubbed ‘Battle of the Trash Heap’. There is so much coincidence to be shocked at, and yet Kuroo’s mind is thinking about none of it. Instead, he notices how Sawamura is beautiful in the most subtle of ways, maturity surpassing their age and yet childish competitiveness just showing around the edges. He notices the flutter of his lashes as he laughs, genuine this time, and Kuroo decides that yes, indeed, he much prefers this to the perfect customer service smile he had received at the beginning of their meeting. He notices how Sawamura’s hands, sturdy and callused, clench when he talks about volleyball, how his arms turn up ever so slightly, as if his body still subconsciously gets into position for a receive. Kuroo’s fingers tingle and he curls them into tight fists, recalling the magnificent sting of a perfect block against the palms of his hands.  
  
At the end of the night, Kuroo smiles at Sawamura Daichi and thanks him for a wonderful night. He pays the bill, hauls a very inebriated Bokuto’s arm over his shoulder (after apologizing to Akaashi for the trouble), and leaves without looking back. Because Kuroo is not so naïve to believe that he truly felt a connection with someone who makes a living making people feel as if they are someone special, instead of one customer among hundreds of others. Even if that someone’s laugh vibrates inside his chest for the next week, even if Kuroo searches for that specific shade of honeyed amber everywhere he goes until he realizes that everything is just a shade too cold.  
  
Life goes on.  
  
\---  
  
Until it doesn’t.  
  
“Sawamura?”  
  
Honeyed amber, just the right shade of warm, meets his own in recognition. Sawamura, dressed in jeans and a flannel button up, looks years younger than he did at the club. Instead of suave host, he’s oddly well placed in a university cafeteria.  
  
“…Kuroo.” Sawamura grins awkwardly, reaching up to rub at the nape of his neck. “Well, this is a change of setting.”  
  
“I’d say. I didn’t know you’re a student here too.” Kuroo says, shocked. He drops down into the seat in front of Sawamura, shock turning into a bemused smirk.  
  
“Yea…I’m in the middle of completing my ph.D, actually. The job is, y’know. Just a way to pay off student loans.”  
  
“I gotcha. I’m just finishing up a Master’s degree myself.” Kuroo says spooning a bite of curry rice into his mouth. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think this suits you more than a host club anyway.”  
  
“So you weren’t charmed?” Sawamura smiles, eyebrows raised. “Could’ve fooled me.”  
  
“Ah,” Kuroo smirks, leaning inches forward. “I never said that.”  
  
Daichi does not retreat.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on my [tumblr](http://www.amaanogawa.tumblr.com)


End file.
